Wanted Dead or Alive: Death the Kidd
by Novalia1001
Summary: The juvenile gunfighter wasn't a peacemaker. He wasn't a criminal- but he was wanted by both justice and a Western Mafia under the name of snakes... meet Death the Kidd.
1. Death the Kid

**Hello, everyone. Before you read this story, please read my Author's Notes.**

I'm supposing that it's because I mainly write one-shots that don't get reviews, and it's only when I become verbally aggressive when honest critique flows in.

Frankly, I find that ironic.

But after personal research and giddy idle reading, I've found that multi- chapter fan fictions gain many reviews.

So, call me 'greedy for attention' if you want to, but I want twenty odd reviews too~! And plus, this idea's been crawling in my mind ever since I looked through my History tome.

**Thank you for reading this, now please enjoy my story, and if you have any shred of consideration, you'll review. (Joking, but, please do so.)**

Wanted Dead or Alive: **Death the Kidd**

Texas was a dry, dusty, laid back country with playful vague laws and carefree criminals. Dirty roads were provided for passer- bys, those few carriages even being a rare sight. But it didn't matter to the masked sheriff who sat in his wooden chair, leather boots propped up on the railings and a revolver being sheathed and unsheathed as he stylishly and precisely shot the lined up tin cans from the roof of the bar across the way.

Blowing the top of the smoking gun, the user acknowledged that it was empty, and ever so delicately began to polish the hull, holding it up to gleam in the smothered sunlight of unusually thick clouds.

"See that, Kidd?" a playful voice asked smothered beneath the white and black mask.

The child seated on the wooden steps looked back at his father, filthy white shirt flexing as he did so. No more than ten, the white skin, rounded face, ebony hair and golden large eyes were means of identification themselves as the son of the Shinigami Sheriff.

He stood beside his father, eyeing the revolver with awe.

"This is a special gun, Kidd," his father said. "Because it has a twin."

"It has a brother?" Kidd asked, bewildered.

"A sister," his father responded, leaving his son even more confused. "But it's not the firepower, or the bullets or the durability that makes a gun special. It's the heart of who wields it."

"So the person is special too?" Kidd asked, "Can I get the gun when I grow up? I wanna be special!"

"You already are, Kidd," his father said lovingly, patting the long hair on his head. "But this is a different kind of special which you have to learn on your own."

Kidd pouted as his father stood.

"I'm afraid I couldn't teach it to you, since today isn't the right day, and tomorrow doesn't exist for me."

"Father?" Kidd asked questioningly.

Though it was behind a mask, the young boy knew that his father's countenance showed a gentle, wise and grim smile before turning to a group of men who he didn't recognize, armed and still in the middle of the road.

Shinigami Sheriff snuck the revolver into the boy's hands and whispered in his ears. Message understood, Kidd dashed inside.

"The three gorgons," he heard his father say once the door shut, "we meet at last."

Gunfire sounded.

Juvenile Kidd awoke with a start in his rented bed. Bare backed, sweaty and panting, he leaned his forehead on his open palm, recalling his collected persona and relaxed composure. It came eventually, clearing the clouded young man's thoughts. He looked up around the dark moonlit room: the board walls covered with distasteful photographs and worn rug stretched below his bed, dresser empty- decorative and homey- and door cracked open were clear, youthful, feminine eyes stared at him, trembling almost.

Catching eye contact she froze, the shadow of her salmon coloured dress shifting along the line of light that streamed in from outside of his rented room. Carefully Kidd smiled and beckoned the girl to enter. Sixteen at most, her red hair was plaited down to her waist and over her shoulders, and freckled fair face blushing having entered a man's private quarters.

"You've been watching me for long?" Kidd asked kindly, turning on the gas lantern to make the flustered maid feel at ease. The faded colours of the room washed over him but he ignored it, pulling on his white shirt over black pants, and crouching beneath the bed to retrieve his leather black shoes.

"N-no, sir," she stuttered. "It's just that- ah heard a yell comin' from ya room, and I was wonderin' if you was alright."

"Considerate of you," Kidd commented, and noticed her rosy shade darken. "I appreciate that; it's only a nightmare though. Nothing to be bothered about."

Seeming closer, she smiled, continuing the conversation. "A nightmare ya say? Ah used to get 'em all the time as a kid- mah mama always said that warm milk helps. Keeps yuh min' and tummy at ease."

"I'll keep that in mind," Kidd chuckled beneath his breath, slinging his belt around his waist and dusting the thin layer of white from his ebony hat. "T'was a pleasure to be talking to you, miss," he said, heading for the door. "But I'm afraid I'll have to leave the inn to you."

"Leavin' so late?" she sounded almost disappointed but more astounded at his bravery and casualty at the risks.

Kidd hesitated a moment at the door, smile still warm but eyes cold and daydreaming. The hesitance faded as he slipped on his hat and after politely saying adieu, left the room and the inn.

His ebony steed was waiting for him at the stables, enjoying the warmth of the straw and provided meal, delighted to lay eyes on its master. Removing his glove, Kidd petted the main of the giant creature.

"I'm afraid we'll be leaving earlier than planned, Midnight," he whispered gently, fingers running through the dark, coarse strands. Strapping the saddle onto Midnight's underbelly, Kidd mounted the feminine hoarse and led her out of the stables with a canter, sustaining the steady speed throughout the chilly night.

The next town was close by, Kidd admitted, but unfortunately, so were his enemies.

**Tell me what you thing pretty pretty pretty pretty please!- Novalia1001**


	2. New Town

**Author's Note: From my first reviews, I received an astonished statement about Kidd being a cowboy. When I researched using Wikipeadia, I read that Ookubo- san (the creator of Soul Eater) based Death the Kidd off of the western gunfighter Billy the Kidd.**

**This fan fiction is only promoting that, I'm afraid. Please enjoy!**

Chapter2: 

Dawn broke over the distant, purple mountains once the black suited stranger and steed appeared in the clearing mist of the large town. Privately, the young man thought to himself how every spot of civilization was so distant from one another, yet all positioned in the middle of nowhere.

He coughed in his hand suddenly, chills vibrating in his chest. A whine from Midnight made him roll his fingers through her mane, and he patted the back of her neck reassuringly.

"A simple criminal, Midnight," he spoke. "You know that I can deal with a few cattle thieves."

"Mornin'," a voice called out. Amber light washed over the boarded settlement further, and shops began to open. Coming from a saloon, a smartly dressed, hunched old man looked at Kidd through tiny spectacles that were older than the young gunfighter himself.

Kidd steered Midnight over to the stranger and dismounted, tipping his hat respectively as he led Midnight to the supplied water below the railings.

"Not going to tie your horse?" the old stranger asked, shifting his glasses as he watched the animal drink thoroughly.

"No, Midnight is a truthful companion," Kidd commented smiling, loosening the saddle on her. "She'd only leave if she had to, that is, if I told her to."

"Well, I've got to admit it's a mighty fine beast ya got thar," he said nodding. "Though I personally believe that calling an animal companion is going a bit too far." He took off his spectacles and rubbed the glass in his pinstripe vest, silvery whiskers still moving as he talked to the patient adolescent. "Drunkards, are friends. Farmers, are friends. Thieving mayors can be friends 's long as they don't hang ya first."

Kidd laughed. "It's a matter of opinion," he concluded. "Off topic, do you have a stable that my horse can stay at? She and I will be spending the day."

"Of course, 'round the back. Follow me."

Kidd whistled at Midnight and instantly she looked up, following Kidd with her head purposely by his shoulder where he pet her comfortably and trustingly was led along the side of the saloon to the large barn at the back by a small farm and immature orchard of unfamiliar young trees.

Positioned by a darker brown horse, Kidd gave Midnight his last salutations.

"That beside her is Richard," the old man said. "He's a gentle old soul- helps me with my farming once he's isn't being stubborn, the old coot."

"I can imagine," Kidd responded, smiling coyly at his horse who was already getting familiar with her new old neighbour.

"Riding through?" the saloon owner, Basten asked. Kidd looked around the empty chairs, tables and twin staircases lined up to rented rooms by a swinging, unlit, black barred chandelier.

"So to speak," Kidd responded, sipping the offered beverage. Warm rum, he noted, setting down the mug carefully. "You've heard about some cattle thieves roaming about of late?"

"Who hasn't?" Basten responded, eager for an interested conversation. "Rumours 's spreadin' 'bout them damned thieves about this town already, but then again, who'd know? All 'o those outlaws breeze through this' ere town all the time: a few more ain't much of a difference."

"I suppose not," Kidd thought to himself, eyes fixed on the dull coloured rink before him. He suddenly stood, a gloved hand running over his belt as his solid gold eyes settled on the patient saloon owner. "How much to rent a room for the day?"

Basten stared at him suspiciously. "What 're you plannin' on doin' in a room by yourself?"

"Sleeping; I've been travelling a long time and owe it to myself to rest."

That reason being valid enough, Basten named the price and led Kidd upstairs with keys in his hands, opening the door to a blue themed room, a bed in a corner with a circular desk at its foot and a pack of cards sealed and new, thick curtains drawn over the windows which prevented morning to stream in.

"You chose a good day to stay," Basten promoted another conversation as Kidd settled himself, dropping his hat beside the new pack of cards and running his hands through white streaked black hair.

"How so?" the juvenile asked absently, removing his gloves.

"Some saloon girls are performin' tonight, 'nd half of the beer we got recently 's free for the town."

"Is that so..." he mumbled, a plan numbly forming in his conscious. "You'll see me about tonight, then. For now, good bye, Basten."

Accepting dismissal, Basten turned on his heel and left the room.

Night was noisy when Kidd woke up. Starlight gleamed outside and candlelight from beneath his locked door, deafened shouts and yells signalling amusement drowning out the high pitched piano western music and singing voices.

Yawning, he sat up on the bed, rubbing the back of his neck. Moments of revising his plan in his head, he stood, pulling on his coat, retrieving his hat, stuffing his dark gloves into his pocket and fastening the twin revolvers on his belt and- in his usual strong, lengthy stride- swept through the door.

Golden irises flickered around. The saloon was full of gritty men, gunfighters and average civilians inducing themselves in the pleasure of alcohol. He sat in a corner of the room crossing his arms and closing his eyes, ears tuned around him. His target of six was closer than he had thought, hissing their plans around the table before him, while playing with a worn deck.

His eyes opened to see a set of glares. A man stood, tall, strapping, dominating, intimidating- obviously the leader of the group.

"What 're you lookin' at, kid?"

Kid smirked. "Nothin' much," he responded, wisely acting a western accent and challenging gaze. "Inless, 'o 'course, you plannin' on showin' otherwise, cattle thief."

As anticipated, his crew flew to their feet in outrage, some in anxiety- drawing eyes to their corner and disrupting the music. The saloon was oddly quiet.

"What'cha stoppin' the music for!" the leader roared.

"Keep singin'!" one of the crew members verbally attacked the saloon girls on the stage, two who flinched and shivered, the third and youngest sending a defiant glare and pout.

Another crew member, absolutely drunk, waved a glass bottle in the air which shattered to pieces at the hands of an unknown gun. A fight broke out in uproar. Dashing along the flying debris, Kidd looked frantically around. His sharp sight caught the fleeing crew sneaking through the back door with a handful of hostages.

Unafriad, he ran into the dry, chilled night.

**I'd like to thank my first two reviewers, Sasuke0099 and ! And those who wish their names be declared, please do review!**


	3. So the Adventure Begins

Chapter Three

**I apologize for the tardiness of this chapter. The creative juices are reaching their drought, I'm afraid, thus this continuation of "Wanted Dead or Alive: Death the Kidd" might be frankly disappointing. Nonetheless, please review, and I accept honest critique and volunteered ideas from everybody and anybody. Even nobodies, or bodies without heads.**

Kidd drew his second gun from its battered sheath as he rallied round the curve of the porch of the saloon, still engrossed in a comical battle.

His golden eyes settled on the startled five out of eight men, three of them holding the saloon girls. He glared.

"Come any closer," their leader, who was clearly outraged, pointed the tip of his pistol at the long haired blonde's head. She winced.

"And this girl's brains are blown to kingdom come!"

Kidd remained silent. His expression was hidden beneath the rim of his hat and his gloved hands were flexing anxiously on the handle of the twin guns.

"Why are there..." he muttered, catching the bandits' attention. "Why are there only five of you?"

The captive saloon girl shrieked with streaming tears as the pistol was shoved further into her hair. Kidd risked to look up. "Deathly asymmetrical," he muttered, "it's a pity that you're my enemy."

He raised his pistols in awkward formation, held upside down and the trigger fated by his smallest and supposedly weakest finger, a grim smile stretching over his features. "What made you think that hostages work against me?"

Before his prey had less than a second to bat their eyelids, ten consecutive shots rang through the town, silencing the bar, and forever silencing the cattle thieves. Spared by mere inches, the shivering brightly dressed girls huddled against one another, eyes staring at the retreating figure who blended in with the darkening sky, feelings of awe and fear continuously washing over them.

"Wait!"

Kidd risked to turn, his left hand warily fingering his gun as he did so. Though surprised to find the short blonde, blue eyed, short _very _petite and overly dressed young lady staring at him bravely, he made sure that it hadn't shown on his impassive countenance. He remained silent as she addressed him.

The defiance n her tone and hint of desperate need had at first made him think she was crazy. Her words assured him that she was insane.

"_Take us with you!"_

He couldn't help but smirk. From their expressions though, he could tell that it was a mocking one.

"Don't be ridiculous," he started with a growl, "why would I need three—or judging by the brunette's expression—two giggly females following me around this god forsaken country? Unless you plan on selling yourselves, look for someone else."

He turned away, walking towards the barn to retrieve Midnight. He heard no sound from behind him, and when he and his steed rode from the town, he dared look back and witness a shocked stiff town circle the five dead men.

"You heard of the gunshot fight in the town a couple towns over?"

"Ya mean, Saloon Town? That quiet lil' place?"

"'ain't no place quiet 'round this country."

Kidd woke up to find himself half asleep in a public bar, tucked away in a corner and unconsciously listening to a pair of card players' conversation. He sighed roughly, shaking himself.

"You all right, sir?"

He looked up to the plainly dressed, eager-to-serve waitress, in her late twenties approximation."

"Better," he muttered sitting up properly and rubbing the back of his neck. "Uh, miss," he called as she edged to move away. She looked at him with half patience. "Yes, sir?"

"About my horse, where...?"

She looked at him with half surprise (she clearly didn't devote herself to emotion), "Your horse? You and that black beast rolled in'tuh this town like a tumbleweed over the savannah. After mah son looked af'tuh that thing, you fell asleep in this 'ere cor'nuh and haven't moved since."

"How long?"

"What?"

"How long have I been here?"

"'bout a couple hours," she replied. "Ah sure hope you 'ain't drunk," she muttered walking away. "I've had to deal with enough drunkards 'round 'ere. 'S'if mah useless husband wasn't enough, ol' God had to go an' send a bunch of witless ol', stupid, useless, monkey related, no good..."

Kidd turned away, amusement in his smile as he looked beyond the foggy, greasy window. The sun was high up, judging by the shadows, and a smart guess left him at the time to be late morning. Trustworthy Midnight had pulled him by three towns. He smiled. A horse was better than three, correction, two blondes following him...

He looked up when the door open and the bell rung obnoxiously. Shady characters stepped into the boarded house, dustily dressed and eyes travelling about as if searching for something, or rather, someone.

Kidd dipped his face beneath his hat, one golden iris observing them as they sat and watched about the pub. Their sketchy appearance was suspicious, as were the black, intricate tattoos on the left side of their necks which seemed to snake down their arm... he then realized that the tattoos of themselves were deadly vipers, and asymmetrical at that. Kidd looked away, imaginary illness restlessly swelling at the pit of his stomach.

His concentration on quelling his nauseating feeling distracted him from the moving par, who appeared before him and seated themselves, unwelcome, at his table. Caution replaced Kidd's edginess.

"Mornin'," one of them greeted. Handsome enough, over fifty, dusty, uncombed and unclean mess of hair and scruffy shallow beard that matched his loose, gunfighter attire. "Min' if we sit here?"

Kidd glanced around at the other empty tables, switching between the notions of using an accent, or speaking in his.

"Yeah, actually," he answered, glaring at the two of them. "Dozens 'o other tables for you and yuh frien' to settle 'round, 'nless, 'o course, you plannin' on speaking with lil' ol' me."

The first speaker signalled to the second with a subtle nod and, returning the action, the second character drew his gun with lightening speed and shot several times in the air. "Everyone out!"

Kidd remained seated and silent, eyes flickering between the scruff man before him, and the more youthful (though still older than him), more tidy looking gunfighter a few steps away.

"You don't seem too surprised," the older gunfighter said, seating himself once the pub was empty. Kidd didn't respond. "The name's Barken, and that boy over there 's my brother, Sandrake."

"You might have gotten the names confused, judging on ya'll's personality," Kidd remarked rudely.

Barken chuckled. "What are you known as? Or should Ah make a name up for ya?"

"Ah'm sure you already know me," Kidd responded, keeping his wary gaze on both brothers.

"True enough," Barken shrugged, then stood drawing his pistol and pointing it directly at Kidd's forehead. He blinked emotionlessly, fear suddenly gleaming in his eyes.

"Death the Kidd," he said, still smiling, "You are under arrest."

**Like I said, this one might be a bit dry, but I'd like to hear your comments.**

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_Are you still reading this? Seriously?_


	4. Recovery

**Ah feel a bit sorry 'bout writin' this 'ere chapter so late, but it was the interest of former readers that kept me goin'. Ah felt so touch by their honest statements, Ah felt that I oughta drop in a couple o' ideas mentioned.**

**It's true, didn't you know?**

**So far you don't even know its Kidd. Gosh, I'm horrible at these long stories, but I cannot stop now! My fans await! (If I had any fans...)**

_Please review. You'll see why at the bottom of the page._

Chapter Four

A dry, hoarse groan rattled through the wooden shack.

It had recently rained, and the covering of the trees sheltered the damped base well and protectively, yet looking alone amidst all the green.

A tall lean character sat up slowly, a hand going up to midnight coloured hair and dizziness fading from the adolescent's cranium. He opened his eyes slowly, his amber gaze settling on round, bright blue ones. He flinched back, unintentionally knocking his head against the wall.

"Patty! Don't go up so close!"

"But sis, he can hardly do anything: he's totally whoozy!"

Unfamiliar voices rang in his ears, and he steadied himself, taking a breath—never failing to realize how cool and crisp it was—and patiently opened his eyes again.

He recognized the face. Round and embroidered by short blonde hair, round blue eyes and an optimistic smile which showed her immaturity despite her age which he guessed to be sixteen, taking in delicate consideration her bust. She looked at him beneath a roughly sewn handmade hat, and a coat over a red shirt, short jeans and brown leather boots.

"Mornin', partner," another voice called.

Kidd sharply looked over to another figure across the room, tall lean and attractive as the first girl—her sister he guessed, with longer, duller blonde hair clipped neatly at her waist and besides the long slim jeans, dressed as identically as the younger sibling.

"What are you two doing here?" Kidd hissed, voice cracking and losing its hostile background.

He noticed that she was cooking on a coal pot, and the scent made his mouth water, but he quieted his hunger and pricked his ears as she sighed and began to formulate her introduction.

"I'm surprised that you actually remember us," she stated, eyes going back to the black pan, stained by years of use.

"I never forget a face," Kidd said grimly. The girl by his side, Patty, jumped from her crouch and walked giddily over to her sister, barely risking Kidd a second glance.

"Do you remember the men who shot you?" the older sibling asked, observing him from the corner of her eyes. He frowned. "Under your left rib."

Kidd shoved down the heavy navy blue cover onto his lap and lifted up his crimson ridden torn white shirt to show his lower abdomen wrapped in fresh bandages, and his left side faintly red. He became aware of it throbbing. His voice caught in his throat. How did he get this?

"You don't remember, do you?"

The voice was closer and he looked up to see the older cowgirl standing over him, hands perched on her hips and eyes staring down at him impassively.

"Just what did you do to me?"

"Nothing but save your sorry butt," Patty growled over the pan, voice and expression suddenly vicious. Her sister glared at her over her shoulder. "Patricia," she warned. Patty pouted repentantly.

"There were two men who walked into a bar in a town a ways off from here," the currently nameless sister explained to Kidd. Wounded and tired, he remained silent, observing the cabin as she spoke.

"I remember them," he muttered. "They said they wanted to arrest me."

"Yeah, then you refused."

Kidd shook his head. "I didn't do anything."

"It might have been when they spiked your drink," Patty volunteered, a kind of cheerfulness to her voice despite the serious situation. Her sister seemed to ignore the tone and nodded, crossed her arms.

"They had their eyes on you since then," 'Nameless' continued. "Some sort of drug. I recognized it, but couldn't remember what it could've done till you blacked out on your horse, then strolled into town as if you were drunk."

"Midnight," Kidd mumbled. "Where's my horse?"

"Outside, tucked under the patio roof with a three days' supply of food and water," Ptty's sister said before the younger could respond. "She's doin' fine. Unfortunately, you aren't. So, until you heal up and intend to threaten us with your guns, shut up and listen your story."

Kidd was forced to ask about his twin weapons, but remained silent and leaned his back against the wall, eyes half closed as he listened.

"Anyway, like I said, you strolled into that town as if you were drunk then blacked out in a corner. Patty and I were watching you warily."

"How long were you intending to follow me?"

"Just until the drug eased up," she confessed, shrugging. "Unfortunately, Giriko and his goon got to you before us."

"Giriko?" Kidd repeated, "Who's that?"

"The younger of the two who attacked you," 'Nameless' replied mildly, almost surprised of his ignorance. "Didn't he introduce himself? I'm sure his goon did."

"They went by the names of Sandrake and Barken."

"So you can remember all that but you can't remember the fight, how you got shot, and how Patty and I raced you out of the town into the forest, huh?"

"Was I eve conscious when all of this happened?"

"So to speak," she responded, but explained no more. Kidd accepted it as a side effect of the 'drug' he had unintentionally consumed. That surprised him: his followers must have certainly been skilful to have spiked his drink without him knowing. He growled. That was careless of him.

"So what the point?" he spat, unknowingly hissing between his teeth. The sisters were surprisingly unaffected, save for the older's slight frown. "What do you mean?"

"What's the point of saving me?"

"You saved us, didn't you?"

"I didn't shelter, nor heal, nor feed you," the last words tumbled out of his mouth as Patty handed him the plate of beans and beacon. He ate it hungrily.

"I suppose it's because we've got a lot in common, the three of us."

He swallowed the strip of beacon, looking between the blondes. "What do you mean?"

"The 'Snakes' are after us too," she said with a grim smile. "By the way, my name's Liz."

_A pair of bat's wings, a puff of toad's breath, a chuckle of witch's cackle with a dainty six pounds of salt, and the perfect brew is cooked to torment any reader who doesn't review._

_Brilliant._


	5. Introduction after Introduction

I feel so touched. I got seventeen reviews! It's not a lot to most people I know but... you know I... well it's just that... Read the story okay!?

_Are you still reading this? Seriously?_

_What part of 'read on' do you not understand?_

_I don't mean read this; read the story!!_

_Sheash... wait, are you still here?!_

Chapter Five (I think)

"We come from New York," Liz said as an introduction, glancing up at the slowly recovering Kidd across from her. The rain had started to bomb the outside world, and the young gunfighter was in no mood nor hurry to rush to the next town and next target—and other than that, it would be rude to such politeness the sisters offered him.

"Of the colonies?" Death the Kidd muttered, turning his gold eyes on the older sibling and sipping lightly at the bitter but warm coffee. He suppressed a shudder beneath the sheet.

"Yeah," Patricia responded, grinning with her mouth full. He glanced away as she continued. "Our dad when to fight in the war and our mom went missing soon after. Sis and I ran away to the west to start over."

"What about your father?" Kidd asked, "You didn't wait for him?"

"We heard from a messenger that he was killed," Liz responded darkly, roughly shoving the egg across the charcoal pan. A frightful grating screech resulted from the force. Kidd paused, watching her carefully. Her eyes stared down, pain ridden and embodied with spiritual strength. Patty became suddenly sober, and both blondes were oblivious to the burning egg.

Kidd gently took the spatula from Liz who became shaken from her daze, and blinked absently, watching as he flopped the meat onto an empty available plate.

"Thanks," Elizabeth muttered bashfully, rubbing her hand up and down her left arm and accepted the plate.

"You hesitate like that often?" Kidd asked, folding the sheet securely over his broad shoulders.

"Often enough," she regained her voice. "I probably shouldn't tell you this, but—"

"If you think you shouldn't tell me, then don't," Kidd interrupted. "Don't look of it as repaying the favour of saving your lives; quite frankly you've done more than that. Everyone has their secrets and I'm not interested in sharing your burden."

The shack was silent. His eyes were on the boarded floor, and he strained to hear a subtle sound from Midnight beyond the door. He heard nothing until a clatter from Patty caused him to look up. She took the pan and two empty plates from her sisters and bounced across the room to a sink he had not noticed before. He cursed himself silently for lack of observation.

"You block people off like that often?" Liz growled, swallowing her bite of food. Her cyan eyes were laid on his, cold and slightly offended. He sighed at the irony in which she laid out her question.

"What does that have to do with you?" Though he began to share her irritation, he was careful to calm his tone. The words seemed to rile her up enough though.

"It's only fair," Patty's voice roared . Kidd jumped. He had noticed her begin to reapproach them, but her voice startled him.

"We told you a bit about us, it's only fair that you tell us about yourself."

"How about you tell me what I want to know and I tell you about my history?"

Liz made a gesture to her sister with a frown, and Patricia sat, pouting.

"What do you mean?" the older sibling asked, caution laden in her query.

"You mentioned a gang called 'Snakes' and someone called 'Giriko', am I correct?"

Liz nodded.

"I've never heard of this organization before, and if it appears that their after me, I'd like to know about my enemy."

Elizabeth stared at him for a moment before she sighed and looked over to her sister. Patty shrugged.

"They're a western mafia from the metropolis England, and immediately made themselves outlaws here in the west," Elizabeth began. "We left New York with them, partially because as two kids, we couldn't bare to survive on the prairie without some sort of guidance."

"They took us in and taught us how to shoot and fight," Patty continued, her immaturity having returned. "When we tired to leave them and live on our own though, they didn't let us."

"We had to forcefully break our way out, and it wasn't in the least easy in case that's what you're going to say," Liz watched Kidd warily, and he politely shut his mouth.

"We've been avoiding them ever since," she finished, folding her arms over her knees.

"If you don't mind me asking," Kidd broke the sudden heavy silence, "how long is 'ever since'?"

Patricia was the next to respond. "Three years," she growled, looking him straight in the eyes. He stifled another shudder. "No matter what we do, they always find us."

"And what makes you so sure that they aren't tracking you as we speak?"

"Who's saying they aren't?" Liz asked, eyes round and wide at him in question. "That's partially why we need you."

"Me?" he repeated, baffled. "Why me?"

"We can hardly shoot as accurately as you can," Liz explained. "And if you won't let us travel with you, then we at least need some training of that awesome skill."

Kidd looked down to his feet. He hadn't spent any more time with the same person for over half a day, much less having been in a partnership, and training was definitely out f the question. The first responses that blared in his mind and sensible reasoning was negative, but his conscience was gnawing restlessly at his guilt for some untouchable reason. He groaned, placing his reeling head on his knees.

"Kidd-kun?" Patty asked softly.

"I'll allow you to accompany me and teach you about shooting under the condition that you do not call me 'kun', whatever that means," he looked mildly at the smiling Patricia, who batted her lashes.

"And," Kidd added, "as long as you tell me everything about 'Snakes'."

The sisters looked at each other for a long moment, drinking in the expressions on the other's blank face, and eventually they both stuck their hands out to Kidd, grinning with stars and newly found confidence in their eyes. Kidd flinched back.

"Deal!" they yelled in unison.

Meanwhile, on the outskirts of the fertile forest, three horses stood motionless in the weakening rain. They were strong horses, and breathing hard, whining in complaint to their masters who rode them expertly, yet paid them no mind.

One such rider was recognized a Giriko.

"You've followed them here?" a male voice asked, his silver cross on his chest glimmering in the pale light.

"You know that I'm a tracker, Justin," Giriko snapped lightly, turning his attention to the forest. "The rain's washed out the remaining trail, though. And that forest's pretty big to be searching blindly."

"Then we had better get going before the tracks completely disappear," the third rider said abruptly. His black short hair was plastered to his face as he wore no hat, and his eyes were situated ahead. "I wouldn't want to disappoint Noah- sama."

Giriko scoffed. "You and your obsession, Gopher."

Gopher glared, but said no more as they trotted towards the evergreen forest.

_Well, if you're reading this then you most likely read the story, and if you just skipped over the entire story just to read this, then you're either saying that my story is not worth your time, or you're just searching for some sort of joke here._

_Guess what? Jokes on you! Ha, ha!_

_They're no jokes here! Neener, neener!_

_(Ahem)_

_Please review._


	6. ATTACK!

Chapter... I lost count.

Kidd slowly, warily opened the door. The nature wasn't moving right, and he was uneasily on his toes once he noticed the usually calm spirited Midnight begin to become restless and give short, soft whinnies.

"Kidd? Is something-!" He cut her off abruptly by slapping his palm over her mouth. He instantly noticed her blue eyes glisten with anger, confusion and mild embarrassment. Her sister stifled giggles beside her.

"Where are you horses, Patricia?" he asked in a deadly tone, still looking beyond the chilling draft that floated into the cabin.

He glared at her, then at them both and said with authority: "Sneak out back as slowly and quietly as you can and ride south to the first town you fond. I'll wait for you there."

"Why? What's the problem?" Liz's temper simmered down as she began to re-experience fear.

"I think your friends are here."

The girls were gone. Despite their largely differing personalities, he had to tip his hat to them for their swift lively saunter to the rear stables; but not now. Now he concentrated on hearing the faintest of sounds beyond Midnight, beyond the cabin's porch. A single twig snap or horse's snort and he could find the mafia pursuers easily and instantly. The difficulty was that he was unaware of the numbers, and of the skill of the numbers, their ammunition, gun's type and so on and so forth.

Regardless, he listened patiently. The flutter of disturbed crows came disturbingly close to the cabin, and with wide eyes he watched a defeated fox crawl from her hiding burrow and hungrily trek over the way only to pause. Death the Kidd watched her keenly. Her sharp ears twitched and turned, her starving body stiffened, and soon she darted to her hiding place away from danger and out of sight. Kidd glanced over to her fear and saw the branches tremble before a smooth, chestnut horse with an expensive saddle and experienced rider stride from beyond. It wasn't Giriko, nor anyone that Kidd had met yet, but would soon have the pleasure to meet.

Dark hair and gothic clothes were plastered to white soaked skin, though he paid no mind. With a silent gesture he motioned two riders forward, one of which he recognized to be the first Snakes member to be acquainted, and a third character with blonde hair and a new face.

They noticed Midnight and the blonde one strolled to her, dismounted from his horse and stepped up the porch to her. She eyed him, stepping back. Kidd, perched on the floor held his tongue and breath, and soon noticed that he had an odd headset over his ears. Still, he took no chances.

"What a magnificent beast," the mafia member noted, inching closer.

"Justin, let's move on," Giriko called. "That horse isn't our target."

"Don't be so naive to such a precious opportunity," the black haired rider snapped. "Which rider would leave his horse with a loaded saddle unless he was planning on returning to it? Think! I suggest we raid the horse and wait for its master." His latter statement was addressed to the character of which Kidd identified to be Justin.

There was a pause before Justin responded. "Very well," he said, then clasped his hands. "Oh Lord," he yelled, "I beg you to forgive this soul as he is prepared to commit a sin! Forgive, my Lord, our God, forgive!"

Giriko rolled his eyes. "Senseless priest," he growled.

Kidd watched patiently, readying himself for his queue. Midnight didn't take kindly to strangers, and her kick was one of the most powerful he'd ever seen—more so than the strongest stallion. Her whinny as Justin drew closer was enough. A blink later Justin was kicked through the window and Kidd shot towards the other two startled riders. Their horses panicked, kicking their private rodeo even after the bullets stopped kicking up muddy earth and Kidd had raced around the tail end of the shack.

"Kidd!"

He turned to see the Thompson sisters mounted on their individual horses, well saddled, well equipped and properly stocked. He paid to mind to that. Instead, rage and discipline overpowered him.

"What happed to running south?"

"We heard gunshots," Patty said innocently.

"You wouldn't have heard them if you were a mile and a half down to Spartoi Town!"

Liz was about to retort before more gunshots rang out. Kidd's commands were obvious as they fled south, brushing through bracken and branches. Only one horse's gallop was behind them, and Kidd was half surprised to see Gopher relentlessly tailing them.

"He's gaining!" Liz gasped, having taken a look back herself.

"Keep moving!" Death barked, eyes racing around with his mind buzzing for a plan. His golden irises trailed up to the dampen canopy where he noticed several strong branches high above. He drew both of his pistols—momentarily and idly checking that they both had eight bullets—and aimed, shot and sheathed his weapons. Thick wood began tumbling through the foliage ahead.

"Keep moving!" he yelled to the nervous sisters who glanced back at him as though he were crazy. Gopher continued to inch up on them. Liz shut her eyes and Patty began to grin as they galloped closer...

Midnight gave out a panicked whinny once Gopher's grip painfully latched onto her tail and rode in line with the sister's horses to break the grip. The heavy logs collapsed behind them, and no living creature was in sight nor sound as they raced away.

Hours on hoof led them to another abandoned ranch which Kidd was sceptical about settling, so they rode on. Though Elizabeth and Patricia were not too fond of his camp in a cave either, they spent the evening there while covering their tracks, and took turns on the lookout throughout the night. Patricia was especially restless.

"That was amazing!" she laughed, stopping her boots across the dusty ground. "Gopher must have been totally crushed under those trees! Ha! That'll teach him to mess with my big sis!"

"What?" Liz looked up from beneath her sheets to her still raving sister. "You over-estimate your big sister, Patty, plus I didn't so a thing, it was-."

"Don't praise me either," Kidd muttered a few steps across from her, back to both sisters and mistaken to be asleep beneath his own thick sheet. "I only saved my life as well as yours."

"Nonetheless," Liz pushed on, "I do thank you. We both do. And we owe you."

"You don't-..." he turned to them, but after seeing the gratitude in the older sibling's eyes and the awe in the younger's, he could only side and revert back to his fetal position sleep.

"Idiots!"

The severely injured Justin and unharmed Giriko cringed at their master's outraged growl in response to their honest report.

"And to think I sent Gopher to prevent you two from destroying this mission!" he continued, "He ended up the worst out of you all! He's nearly dead!"

The silence in the dark room lit only the full moon streaming in through the decorative circular window behind the mafia boss was deafening.

"You shouldn't be so upset with them, Noah," a feminine voice hissed as the beautiful woman stepped into the light. Her amber gaze was deathly though, and Giriko uneasily looked away.

"Witch," Noah muttered, "get away from me. This is man's work."

"Apparently that isn't enough, now is it?" she responded, slithering closer to him. He glared at her. "Men don't think. It's unfortunate that I had to kill my sisters just to pair up with the unworthy likes of you—they would have made much more capable mafia queens."

Justin watched her keenly, recording every shape of her lips.

"Don't talk mutiny to me at this point, witch, Medusa," he spat out her name. "Unless you have something meaningful to say that will help me get rid of this gunshooter."

"Rather than destroy the youth, why not apprehend him?"

"What?"

She grinned. "To have been victorious over the crushing defeat of three of your most trusted gunfighters—one of those defeats being literal, may I remind you—that might be a good example of his capabilities that we can use rather than those Thompson sisters."

Noah was silent, but she was smiling at him, as though hypnotizing him. "I'm listening..."

_I'm sorry I put this story off for a month, but I had to formulate the ideas properly, you know? Anyway, I'm sure at least one generous character will review what I have here, and maybe I'll come sooner in my next chapter._


	7. Warming up and hunting down

I haven't continued this story in… what, months? So I assume that those who have been reading it must be upset. I would be too. So feel free to send me flames if you want—not like I like it or anything, who would?—and fair comments would be well appreciated.

I forgot the chapter.

Kidd pointed both pistols forward. The country breeze was soothing, weaving through the soft green grass, playing with the leaves of the trees, stealing several, and picking up occasional dirt from the dry ground. Patricia interrupted him again.

"Why do you use two pistols?"

He twitched, closing his eyes and counting mentally.

"Patty," Liz hissed at her, seated beside her sister on the rock. The shorter blonde apparently did not hear her.

"Why not just one?"

She asked again. Kidd gaze her a sideways glance.

"Why do they look identical?"

"Symmetry, Patricia," he said in a dark voice. Liz's eyes widened at his tone.

Patty stood up and tilted her head at him, glaring him down. "I can do a scary face too," she teased, and Kidd testily fingered his gun.

"Patty!" Liz yanked her sister down and Kidd sighed, continuing the lesson.

"Never not see your opponent," he began, immediately puzzling the sisters, "keep your eyes on him, gun at the ready as if you want to shoot him before he talks. In your case, I'm sure that goes without saying."

Elizabeth blinked skeptically at him and Patty stuck out her tongue. Kidd fired, and the can twenty odd yards away flipped in the air with a loud crack. It fell to the ground silently, almost smoking. Kidd shot it again with the other gun.

"Did you have to shoot it twice?" Elizabeth asked in exasperation.

"Simply proving my point, Elizabeth," he retorted, shoving his pistols into their sheaths. He eyes her as she stood.

"I don't think so. I think you have obsessive compulsive disorder."

He raised an eyebrow at her.

"I get it: even! Everything has to be even with you!" she pointed dramatically at his nose, and soon Patty appeared beside her doing the exact same thing. He swatted both their hands away.

"Symmetrical," he corrected. "Evenness is but a trait in symmetry."

He glanced at them again, the sisters standing side by side. He visibly paled.

"Kidd?" Liz questioned, walking towards him, "Are you alright?"

"Asymmetry," he hissed and pointed at them with the pistols. They flinched back.

"Liz, grow your breasts immediately. Patty, grow your hair longer and become taller. Liz, wear puffy pants. These changes are essential for my tutoring."

Elizabeth swatted his guns to the ground then kicked him in the shin with amazing fury. He fell to the ground and the sisters continued to kick him.

"How dare you point at us with pistols?! You could have shot us!" Elizabeth screamed, ramming the heel of her boot in his shoulder. "And what do you mean I have to 'grow breasts'? Do you think I can do that on will?!"

"And your teaching is awful, too!" Patty laughed, kicking him in the gut.

"At least their rage is at an equilibrium," Kidd muttered, turning his back to their blows.

Night fell quickly and the triad made camp. Patty fell asleep in a gluttonous position, saliva leaking from her mouth along her cheek. Elizabeth gently wiped it away with the edge of the blanket. Kidd sat by the fire, looking carefully over the landscape. He ensured the trail they took covered their tracks, and that they had rode for a good four days without pausing for very long, but he still had the sensation of being followed…

"You look worried," Liz commented while scraping the food from the base of the pan. Her blue eyes flickered up to his gold ones, enhanced by the firelight. He looked away.

"We could being stalked as we speak," he admitted. "I can't help but feel restless. Not to mention the sore you and your sister gaze me won't allow me to sleep in a very comfortable position." He glared at her on his last sentence and with a weak smile she twitched before laughing.

"What's the matter with you?" he asked, startled by her sudden outburst.

"I think you're finally warming up to Patty and me," she responded, grinning at him. He turned away quickly. "Ridiculous." He growled.

"What a quick answer," she muttered playfully.

"People get used to others all the time," Kidd commented, rubbing his face roughly.

"That's not quite what I meant," Liz said. "Today, you called us by our nicknames, not our full names."

Kidd stared at her bug-eyed, unsure as to how to answer. Luckily he didn't have to as she finished her meal and withdrew beside her sister in sound sleep. Kidd scanned the landscape again, finding it unbearable, the feeling of being watched and followed. He shuddered, huddling up in his sheet.

Several miles away, four horses rode up to the recently used shack. The horses flipped their manes as their riders fell to the ground. One sustained an unhealthy slouch.

"Dang, you can see this place was used less than a week ago," he said, shoving his hands in his pockets. "That's pretty uncool of them."

"It looks like there was a fight here," a soft female's voice said, eying the broken twigs and scattered hoof prints muddled into one another. "Or perhaps an ambush," she corrected.

"What are we waiting for, then?" the third character spoke up from atop his horse. He was muscular, tall and lean, beady turquoise eyes looking over the other three of them. "We'll never catch up to those muggers if we just stand around here and chat!"

He urged his horse to ride on, but the second female grabbed his collar and threw him into the ground, her large round eyes never leaving the door of the cabin. "Don't be so reckless, Blackstar," she scolded. "We'll miss them entirely if we don't thoroughly investigate this boatload of clues we have here. Tsubaki," she tuned to the long haired pretty ranger who turned to her instantly.

"Yes, Miss Albarn?"

"Take this," and she distastefully held up the half conscious Blackstar. Awkwardly, she held him as Albarn and Evans walked inside the shack.

"It's darker than night in here," Soul complained.

"Obviously," Maka's voice came from further in the room, "it's night time."

"You know what I mean," he growled, throwing her a glare in the dark and probing the wall with a switch. When he found it, the room was light dimly, and it showed a harassed room used as kitchen, washroom and bedroom, and scattered usable items about on the floor. Soul picked up a full, unopened can.

"Who would leave behind a whole can of corned beef?" he asked rhetorically, glancing over at his partner. She remained silent and eerily still.

"Oi, Maka, you okay?"

"Peachy," she said turning on her heel. "And I know exactly where we're going."

Soul smiled and scoffed. "I'd find that ability of your creepy if I didn't know you already."

She gave him a half smile, then signaled for them to ride off. And they did, directly down Kidd, Patty and Elizabeth's trail.

_Okay, this chapter is done, if you think it was good, nod. If you think it wasn't, shake our head. Hey… hey! Don't all of you shake your heads at me! (meanies…)_


	8. Method to Thy Madness

Chapter Eight: Method to Thy Madness

The landscape was visibly starting to get less and less lush. Red loose earth began appearing beneath the horses' hooves, the mountains began dipping into the flat savannah and plants, designed for the hot and dry constant climate, began to peek between cracks in the ground and around stones more regularly. The creek that they had been traveling in to leave little to no tracks was beginning to turn into less than a sliver of running water, and Kidd alerted the sisters to collect as much water as they could from now.

"Spartoi Town is still a full day away," he spoke to them while scanning his environment with a trained and careful eye. "It would be annoying if someone fainted from dehydration."

Elizabeth scoffed as she splashed water on her face. Patty crouched over the back so intensely that her nose touched the water, but she was more concentrated on an identical face that was making faces at her. While the sisters relished in their break from both riding and training, Kidd scornfully kept guard.

He paused when he looked towards the thinning edge of the short forest that had sheltered them for four days and glared, willing himself to see more than bark, roots of soil. Unsure of what he was searching for, the juvenile gun fighter sought for it, knowing, _feeling _that whatever it was, it was there.

He blinked absently with a quiet mild shock on his face, his condition abrupt, and just as quickly, it faded, leaving him unnerved. It was an unlikely, unassuming thought, but he could have sworn that he saw a pair of round evergreen emerald eyes with dilated pupils making it seemed feminine somehow, and staring directly at him. Or rather, at _them, _as he recalled that he wasn't alone anymore.

"Perfectly…symm…" he whispered and trailed off.

Patty caught the gesture before Liz did. "Kidd-kun?"

He visibly twitched. "I told you not to call me that," he stressed.

"What were you mumbling about a while ago?" Patricia blinked innocently at him. Liz, though listening, turned the bulk of her attention to her rippled appearance in the water and ran a damp hand through her long dusty hair.

"It's nothing," Kidd responded and started towards Midnight beside the two tan horses, all three drinking water silently. "We ought to get moving."

"There he goes again," Liz sighed with vivid exasperation. She stood and turned to him. "What in the world are we _running _from?"

"Have you ever considered that we might have been followed all this time?" Kidd asked dryly.

"Not after Justin, Giriko and Noah had their butts handed to them," Liz retorted and Patty laughed giddily.

"It's not them I'm worried about," Kidd responded in a low voice and looked towards the forest again.

Bone chilling water splashed on him and he flinched back, golden eyes opening, startled. Boots half submerged in the water, Patty cupped her hands below her again and flashed water towards Kidd. He flinched again. "Hey! What are you doing?"

Elizabeth laughed good-naturedly. "You're too tense, Kidd! Lighten up!" Bare footed, she kicked up water directed towards their gun fighter-teacher.

"Perhaps I'm tense for a reason?" He asked sarcastically, muttering over his shoulder. He started for Midnight but froze in place once more water hit his back.

The sisters paused warily.

"Uh-oh," Patty whispered, "did we break him?"

"If you're going to splash water on me," he growled, "do it right."

The sisters cocked their heads to the side in question. Patiently and with clear, absolute instruction, the thereof them were based in the middle of the shallow stone stream, boots by their luggage and sleeves and pants rolled up to their joints, ready for action.

"I feel ridiculous," Liz muttered, then glared at Kidd. "Aren't you supposed to be teaching us how to gunfight, not how to get into water fights?"

"This is mandatory for our lesson," he replied simply, and crouched over to the water.

Patty grinned. "Sure! When we meet upon Giriko again, we can douse him in style!"

The eldest of the triad bowed her head in defeat.

"Now then," Kidd began, "the whole idea of this is to keep your body centre. Always bend with both knees,"—here he lost height by demonstrating his point, and the sisters followed—"and always use to hands to cup the water. Never separate the hands once the water is in your hands—that will lead to a splatter, and the objective is to get your opponent wet."

"Kidd-kun," Liz moaned, looking over Patricia's childish antics and poor attempts, "aren't you taking this a little too lightly? We have a mafia on our tails."

He smiled promisingly. "I told you, this is mandatory."

"How can splashing water be mandatory for pistol practice?" she yelled, thrashing about in the water doing a good deal more damage than her supposedly "mentor's" technique.

Casually, said Kidd stepped out of the water and pulled on his boots, gracefully mounting his horse. He tipped his hat, hiding his serious gaze as he pressed in a suave, dark voice: "I promise you, it's beneficial. Let's go."

Midnight strolled forward before the Thompsons gathered their belongings. "We're leaving already?" Patricia pouted, but leaped onto her beast of burden with a smooth swing of the leg. Still barefoot, she kneed her horse to follow Kidd's.

"Hey, hey you two!" Liz fought to pull on her boots and was trotting after her sister after a substantial delay. "Don't _leave_ me here!"

Despite the light air, Kidd felt solemn and restless, shrugging off the feeling of a stalker. Nevertheless, the staring eyes remained.

…

Albarn blinked away her ability, and her partner noticed her frown. On horseback he pulled up to her, and tired crimson eyes searched her face for answers. Lazily, he resorted to words. "What's the matter now? You lost him?"

She bristled and glared up at him. "I never lose a target, Soul," she hissed, and then her face softened. "That's not what bothers me."

"I'll tell you what's bothering me," their loud companion roared from behind, edgily seated in his mounted saddle. "We're a full day behind! We should have captured them by now!"

"But if we follow too closely, it would make the capture harder, Black Star," his soft spoken partner said while dismounting her beast, running her gloved fingers through its chestnut mane and motherly eyes soft on Black Star.

He huffed in response. "If we don't capture them, we'll deal with Lord Death himself!"

"Don't worry, Black Star," Maka pressed, turning to him. "We'll catch them in Spartoi Town.

Soul raised an eyebrow at her in question and she responded to it: "He has the same ability as me."

They tensed in realization.

"That means they know where we are—_who_ we are?" Soul asked nervously.

She shook her head, long plain hair flashing about her shoulders. "No, its not developed yet, but he feels as though he's being followed."

Black Star grunted. "That's reason enough to catch up with them now."

In agitation, Maka slapped his horse while pulling on the reigns, and the jolt from the beast's retaliation sent their best fist fighter into the dirt. Maka glared down at him. "Don't forget that I have the most authority, Black Star."

He got to his feet, challenge glinting in his eyes. "Is that a threat?"

Tsubaki fretted, eyes flickering between the two and Soul blew out a sigh in exasperation. "Cut it out, you two. Let's just set camp and call it a day. If you're right, Maka,"—she sent him a glare and he smirked at her—"we'll catch up to them in Spartoi Town. Simple. For now, let's get some rest."

They retreated, pulling out equipment to retire for the night. When the last embers in the fire were dying, Black Star was snoring, Tsubaki shuffling in her sleep, and Maka staring at the few stars she could see through the overgrowth of the canopy.

"Hey, Maka," her gaze glanced to meet a wary red-tinted glance.

"Yes, Soul?"

"How are you so sure that we're going to catch up with Kidd and the Thompson sisters in Spartoi Town?"

She smiled. "Because he's going to wait for us."

…

Author's Note: Hi~! I apologize that this chapter is so late—so late in fact, that it's morning when I'm writing this! Ha, ha…yeah, that wasn't funny.

If you have ideas about this chapter, following chapters, former chapters and/or bonus chapters, review.

If you have a better joke, I'll accept that as well.


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